


Five Minutes

by DistractedDream



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Game Start zine, M/M, Thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:06:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: “I’ll give you five minutes…”Marik makes Bakura an offer - and an ultimatum.





	Five Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This was the piece I did for the "Game Start" zine that was released September 30, 2018. You may still be able to download it for free at http://www.mediafire.com/file/muwbdrm7s6mqr9l/GameStartZine.pdf/file.
> 
> I can be found at Distractedream on Twitter and DistractedDream on Tumblr. Kudos and comments are awesome and make for a very happy writer!

“I’ll give you five minutes…” Marik stood on the pier, but he couldn’t enjoy the wide open space nor the wind in his hair, not when there was business to be done. He stuck his hands in his pockets, the duel disk heavy on his arm, the Rod tucked under his belt at his back. Marik had gotten used to relying on the Rod to force people to do his will. That wouldn’t work this time – and Marik suspected he wouldn’t be as intrigued by this Bakura or offering to let Bakura work with him if it had. “Yes or no… It’s your choice.”

Bakura mimicked Marik’s stance, his own duel disk at his side, Ring resting over his chest as the wind blew his hair and overshirt back. Well, Ryou’s hair and overshirt, but technicalities. He didn’t really need five minutes. What he needed was Marik’s Millennium Item and whatever knowledge he had regarding the Pharaoh and the Items. What could he possibly know that Bakura didn’t? He scrunched his nose in irritation. This Marik was a brat, an attractive brat, but still a brat. Who was he to think he could stand between Bakura and his destiny? Tombkeepers, ha! Did his former mortal self have such a reputation that an entire lineage of tombkeepers was bred to protect the precious Pharaoh’s afterlife? What a joke. At least Marik seemed to have rebelled against his upbringing and, in a way, Bakura had a strange feeling of respect for him.

Marik rolled his eyes, though he tried to disguise it as merely looking off in the distance. Bakura was really going to take the entire five minutes, wasn’t he? What a jerk. Was this a trick? Some kind of ploy to see if Marik would say screw it? A test to see if Marik would be a worthwhile partner? Marik should be Pharaoh, not some long-dead boy-king who’s very ren had been lost. If he hadn’t seen the value of having someone who could get near the Pharaoh’s avatar without arousing suspicion, Marik might have walked away from Bakura. Might have. He tipped his head, eyes flicking up and down Bakura’s body. Another wielder of a Millennium Item and his age as well, or at least his host was. He was… cute, but Marik found himself more drawn in by Bakura’s demeanor, his confidence, his goals, goals which seemed to complement Marik’s for now. Several times he almost opened his mouth to break the silence between them, to ask the flurry of questions buzzing through his head, but he didn’t. If Bakura was uncomfortable in the quiet, then perhaps he would make his decision faster.

Bakura was accustomed to waiting; five minutes was nothing to millennia in the darkness of the Ring. He should have been plotting his next move, how he would approach Yugi and the Friendship Gang with Marik at his side, but the thought of Marik at his side at all proved far too distracting. The lean body, the low-slung cargo pants, even that stupid purple hoodie were burned into his mind. Damn his landlord and his teenage hormones! He clicked his tongue in frustration, averting his gaze as Marik leaned forward, expecting him to speak. Well, the brat would just have to wait. If he wanted an answer before five minutes, he should have given him three minutes, though truthfully, he’d only needed one. Bakura smirked as Marik realized he wasn’t going to talk, his shoulders drooping some. He kept the smirk on his face though his stomach squirmed; he didn’t much care for the disappointed look that crossed Marik’s face, but he certainly wasn’t going to look closer at those feelings.

What was this guy’s deal? Either he was in or he was out and if he was out… Marik scowled, turning to stare out over the water. Bakura knew more than Rishid about his plans, mostly thanks to Marik’s efforts to protect his brother in case everything went sideways. Besides, Rishid never asked Marik’s reasons, simply following through on his orders. Bakura had gotten those reasons from him though and that knowledge made Bakura dangerous to Marik’s scheme if he didn’t get in line. He wouldn’t be able to risk Bakura returning to Yugi and the others to warn them. He’d have to kill him and that seemed a shame – though some dark part of him shifted, like a dragon awakening from slumber, and thought maybe he could further his plans by depositing Bakura’s corpse at the Pharaoh’s avatar’s feet. Marik shook his head, banishing those thoughts. He hated when that happened, not feeling entirely like himself when it did.

He watched Marik closely, the other being the only thing really worth watching as the water had never interested him. Marik seemed to be lost in thought, more so than Bakura who was the one who was actually supposed to be thinking about the proposal. His gaze was drawn down Marik’s back and he grimaced at the physical reaction of his host’s body. Was Ryou’s ba surfacing? Was that why he kept wondering what Marik would feel like pressed against him? He closed his eyes, having no fear that Marik would notice, much less try to screw him, scanning to ensure Ryou remained well tucked away in his soul room. That had to be the explanation, why he was so… so… it pained him to admit it, even to himself – so attracted to the brat. Finding no indication that Ryou was aware of what was happening, Bakura’s gut twisted, harder than before, making him grit his teeth. The influence of Ryou’s body or no, it was entirely him that was enticed by Marik.

Marik looked over his shoulder at Bakura, hair blowing around his face, half obscuring it from Bakura’s view. Killing Bakura really would be a shame. He liked the idea of having a partner. No one could ever really be his equal but having someone to work with, to see his plans through to fruition, and maybe, later, much later, when it was done and the Pharaoh ceased to exist, his ba banished, and Marik could be Pharaoh, maybe then he and Bakura could… Could be what? Partners? Friends? Something more? He rolled his shoulders. It was times like this when he almost missed the simplicity of tomb life. He wouldn’t have had to worry about something as complicated as making friends underground. But he could never go back. Would never go back. He would never be able to live underground again. Maudlin thoughts, perhaps, but they kept him occupied from worrying about Bakura, his cute body, and his decision. Maybe after the Pharaoh was defeated, he would buy a penthouse, something higher up than even the Kaiba Corps tower, with a view. Something he could run the Ghouls from without getting his hands dirty. Sure, he might lose some without the Rod’s thrall but if he could convince Bakura to join him, he wouldn’t have trouble recruiting others. And maybe, perhaps, Bakura would have completed his own plans by then and they could rule the underworld. Together. He frowned. There he was, thinking about Bakura again.

Bakura met Marik’s eyes. What was going through the brat’s head? The Rod’s powers would be exceedingly helpful right now in answering that. What would Marik say when Bakura accepted his offer? Bakura was going to accept, of course. Let Marik and his Ghouls do the legwork while he observed, until he could glean whatever knowledge Marik had. And if Marik failed, he would be in a better position to play the innocent with nothing lost. Nothing, except Marik and he really didn’t like how tight his throat felt at that. Marik looked back over the water and it was Bakura this time who had to shut his mouth, lest he say something stupid just to get Marik to look at him once more. Besides, there’d be time enough for that later surely. If they worked together and won, if they succeeded in killing the Pharaoh, what then? Could he really let Marik go on about his life while Bakura opened the Shadow Realm and allowed Zorc Necrophades back into the world? Or perhaps… Marik could stay at his side, his partner, and together they could watch the world plunge into darkness. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy that thought, pulled from his reverie when Marik finally spoke.

“All right…” Marik turned back to Bakura, fisting his hands at his sides. He had to be resolved, no matter Bakura’s answer. “Five minutes is up.” Marik dropped his head down, looking away, dreading what he had to say next. “Now you either die…” He practically willed Bakura not to choose death, heart racing, that dark part of him ready to snap free, to do what needed to be done if Bakura made the wrong decision. “…or join forces with me.”


End file.
